


Thigh Highs

by cyrusbarrone



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Barebacking, M/M, PWP, thigh highs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyrusbarrone/pseuds/cyrusbarrone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a work of art, one that was ruined and corrupted in the most gorgeous way possible. The corruption was the best part, in the form of dark stockings that ran down the lengths of his legs from the middle of his thick thighs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thigh Highs

God did he look gorgeous like that, pretty like a fucking picture that's what he was. He was painted with the most care at all possible, pale, snowy white thighs with only pale flushes of pink near the tiny swell of his ass. His back was long, the slopes of his shoulders elegant and pronounced further with the yellow glow of the bedside lamps. Then the bruises, the purples and blues along the sloping curve of his spine. He was pretty after gigs, bruised and scratched, rough.

The best part though, wasn't the picture perfect part. No artist would have done that to their perfect picture, but there he was, stretched out on his knees in those sheer black thigh highs. They were the type you'd see in an old forties film, connected with thin little elastic straps connected to a ruffled, silky looking belt that hung low from his hips. One of the metal clips was hanging loose from the soft belt from when he'd pulled at it a little too much.

He was the picture of lust, and it was perfect. 

His hand leant back and grabbed at my hip, long slim fingers tight as he pulled me up against him in a way that was so stupidly needy. "Fuck sake, Frank, what are you fucking waiting for?" he growled out, voice rough and gorgeous. 

I let out a slight laugh at his comment, and leant down over the curve of his spine, pressing a kiss against one of the knots. "Don't be so impatient, babe," I mutter against the warm sweat of his skin, pressing my hands against his hips as they twitched restlessly. “Good things come to those who wait,” I remind him quietly, brushing one hand just below the silky belt, teasing, ignoring the hard shape of his dick, bopping and eager for something I wasn’t giving. 

His hips twitch, his dick bobs and I let out an appreciative sound. “Good things come,” he counters, and I can see the arching of his eyebrows and the way his mouth is dropping open and close without a sound, I don’t even need to look at him. 

I ran my hand up the inside of his thigh, pale and soft skin under the rough pads of my fingers until I reach the dark coarse hair at the base of his dick. I push my hand over the slight curls and graze my fingers over his balls, over the bottom of his dick. “Who said you were good?” I murmur back to him, pressing my mouth hot and open to the small of his back, licking up the pooling sweat. I inhaled deeply, appreciative. “What makes you think you deserve this?” I ask him quietly, running my other hand up the sheer of his stockings, running up until I reached the shining clip. It pinged when I undid it, hitting the soft of his ass, leaving a watercolour red mark.

He keeps stuttering, not just when he tries to talk, but his whole body. He slumps forwards onto his elbows, graceful bow of back going straight for a while before curving up again. “Please.”

I press my mouth a little lower, hot against the top of his ass.”What do you want?” I asked him quietly, pressing both hands against the fronts of his thighs, around the tops of the stockings, holding them in place. “’Please’ what, baby?” I encouraged.

“Fuck me,” he breathed, voice panting and overused, overwhelmed. I grin widely as he says it outloud, the words lingering in the sex-heavy air for a few seconds. I breathe it in, and grab onto the solid of his hip- rubbing my thumb into the solid metal piercings there, before flipping him over onto his back. He’s paler like this, the dull yellow of the light reflecting shiny on the sweat collected on his stomach. His dick is dark and heavy against his stomach, contrasting in the most lovely way. 

I blink, I stop admiring him for a couple of seconds as I press push forwards and press my face into the crease of his thigh before pressing my face up against the base of his cock and taking a deep breath. He smelt like pure sex, heady, musky and fucking perfect. “I guess I can do that,” I told him, giving one hard, long lick down the length of his dick just to see that twitch of his eyebrows and circling mouth.

His hands grab at my hips, needy, pulling me forwards as I get back on my knees and push his thighs apart, the sheer of his stockings sliding up against the small of my back, his heel tugging me closer by the ass. “I’m already ready,” he reminds me quickly, skidding his foot up my spine with his back arching in a stupidly flexible way. “Surely you can’t have forgotten that awfully large dildo from earlier?” he adds, his breathing shuddering, and his hands dropping to run up his own torso as if just the memory was enough to make his skin crawl.

I lift his leg slightly as he hooks one over my shoulder, and press a kiss to the underside of his knee, the stockings alien against my lips. “I haven’t forgotten,” I tell him.

I hadn’t. How could I have done? 

The slump of his shoulders, lazy and lacking all the elegance he usually held, and the tight knuckle-white grip he had on shining rubber base of the dildo. The gasping was what I remembered the most, the way his jaw was set loose and easy, contrasting to the heavy breaths he was taking as he pushed it in and out, fast and hard, pummeling.

I drop my hand from around the curve of his calf and push both my hands to the obvious lines of his hips, pressing my thumbs against the studs as I pulled him closer, my hips pressed close against his ass, gasping and wanting at the very memory.

He grinned at me, white teeth flashing bright in the glow of the lamps, “Knew you were all talk, baby,” he commented, twisting his hips slightly and pressing his ass hot against my crotch, teasing himself, teasing me. 

My eyes roll just slightly at the smugness of his comment, at the way the whites of his teeth disappearing as his mouth started hanging open in a needy ring. I leant over him, running my hand up the length of his raising and falling torso, fingers tacking slightly before I grabbed the wasted bottle of lubricant from where it had spilt messy and sticky on the pillow, tacking onto the sweaty blonde of his hair. 

“Don’t need that,” he was quick to complain, leg twitching, skating up my back again, dragging me closer, pressing my dick closer to his hole. “Need you.”

I catch his mouth in a kiss, shutting him up- stop talking. The noise he makes is desperate, needy, and so fucking whorish that I can’t believe that I’ve really got him open, gorgeous and wanting me. The lubricant bottle is sticky and leaking into the creases on my fingers, cold against hot. The bottle slides from my grip as his heel digs deeper against the small of my back, drawing me closer, and it takes all my willpower not to just slide my hands around the tights of his hips and pull his ass onto my dick.

I drop my lube slick hand onto my dick, gasping at the cold pressure of my hand against the heavy heat of my cock. It felt fucking good, and it took a sharp kick on my shoulder for me to fall out of just jacking myself off, hard and hot and onto the flat of his sweat shiny stomach. 

“Fuck me, you fuck!” he’s pathetic, whining and stupid for it as his sweat sticky hand grabs onto the base of my dick, tugging slightly and leading me towards the hot heat of his ass. I hold his hips tighter as I push in, inch by inch, gasping at the familiar tight heat that surrounded me, my eyes lidded and heavy as I was fully in, my balls hitting against his ass. 

Mikey’s twitching and gorgeous beneath me, legs dropped from my waist, fallen open and drawn tight up and close to his shining torso. His eyebrows are dark, drawn together, his mouth dropping down further as I adjust the angle of my hips, pressing until...

“Ah!”

A grin immediately smothers my face at the sound of it, at the desperation making his voice high and delightful. I hooked my arms around the bottoms of his thick thighs, tugging at them hard and gasping just slightly at the feel of his thighs hitting hard against my torso, sweaty and gorgeous. My hips shove hard back and forth, twitching and grinding up against him, listening to the sounds of his moans, drawn out and fucking gorgeous.

“Fu- fuck, Frank!” Mikey’s voice is shattered as his throat stretches back, Adam’s apple bopping and gorgeous. His hands are harsh as they grab at my hips, thumbs pressing into the dark ink there, tugging, pulling, and needy as hell. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby.” He’s panting, and I want to tell him how he looks like this, head chucked back, blonde strands sticky against his forehead, torso stretched long and taut, the thigh highs slipping from their grip of the belt and slowly falling down his legs. His dick is the centre of the picture, though, dark red, spilling clear onto his stomach where its curved up and heavy. 

His muscles are quick to tense around me when his thighs fall, slipping open and tight around me, heels tugging me closer, pushing me in deeper, further, harder. I fall forwards as he mutters nonsense, his dick getting caught between the slides of our bodies, a hot pressure against my stomach as my hips twitch and my mouth breathlessly finds his.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” I muttered to myself, tongue feeling heavy in my mouth at the gasping words. His hand lifts up from where it had been gripped in the pale colour of the sheet, and tangles into the long sweaty strands of my hair, tugging and pulling until our mouths are up against each other, hot and slotted in the most delicious way.

His hips push up hard and I can feel the way his dick twitches against my stomach and I know he’s so close. “Baby,” he breathes in the kiss just before his teeth bite down on my lip and his heel shoves against the small of my back, desperate now.

I gasp just a little before tucking my hand down between the two of us, and wrapping my hand tight around his cock. “Come on, baby,” I mutter as I jack him off, hand moving hard and fast as my hips do the same, making an uneven and awesome rhythm. I press my thumb over the leaking head of his dick, and rub just slightly, hand still jacking, wanting to get him off in the bed way possible.

Our mouths detach from each other, a line of spit pulling tight between us before he drags me closer, hands tight in my hair, and buries his face into my neck, mouth open and panting wetly against the fading scorpion tattoo there. “Fuc—“ his curse is cut off with the sharp and desperate twitching of his hips as he comes between the two of us, sticky white settling on his stomach and over the colours of my hands, blotting them out. I jerk him through it, mouth panting against his head.

It takes a couple of minutes for his body to still just slightly, his thighs still twitching just slightly around me as I continue on using his body, pressing harder and harder until I collapse on him, moaning and gasping loud and wet against his stretched out neck, hand grabbing onto his and sliding fingers together and the extent of my orgasm just takes over. I lay there for a while, just getting over the feeling, before Mikey starts whining just a little, and I pull out of him, watching just slightly at the come that dripped out. He was fucking obscene, like a pornstar.

His hand is warm as it brushes over my face, thumb over the shape of my eyebrows, my bottom lip and the curve of my nose. “I take it you like the thigh highs?” he asked me quietly, voice too loud in the quiet apartment, breaking the sex heavy air with his sex worn voice. 

I chuck my arm over his hips, not giving him any time to get rid of the possibly gross and sweaty stockings, too tired and lucid to want to do anything but cuddle in the nude. “I don’t know what made you think that,” I muttered back to him, lifting one of my hands and touching it gently against his jaw, turning his face to look at me. He looks fucking wrecked, but that’s when he’s the most gorgeous. I press a small and gentle kiss against his lip- I can feel now where he tore my lip, and I admire the slight blood stain I leave on his lip- and smile just gently at him.

“Next time you’re wearing them,” he murmured, tucking his arm over the slope of my shoulders and pressing his nose into my sweat damp hair. “And I'm fucking you.”

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for fucking ever, and it's my first like full sex write-up thing, and my friend said it was pretty good so lets hope he wasn't lying. ^.^ (there needs to be frikey sex fics)


End file.
